Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 5

Previously: “Time to move on from Fortress City. But will a hot-air balloon get us past Prometheus, the renegade Sky Spider machine?”

Part 5: Lab Rat Balloon

I sat on a grass verge, looking out into the blackness of night.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Dreams,” I answered.

Lady Una glided out of the shadows, moving noiselessly over the cobblestone path. “Nightmares?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Memories.”

She smiled lopsidedly – a strange gesture for her delicate features. “Same thing these days. May I sit with you?”

“Trouble sleeping yourself?”

“Always,” she answered, and then folded up in a peculiar and graceful motion that found her seated on the ground beside me, her high-necked, hoop-skirted dress uncreased.

“I think, perhaps... you should consider wearing more practical clothes once we leave the city,” I suggested.

“I know about the Select Committee,” Lady Una responded.

I was unsure how to respond. “Excuse me?”

“I've mentioned that my uncle's library carried copies of files from the Imperial Society, have I not? They really were surprisingly detailed – although, of course, they could say nothing of what is presumably known only by yourself among all humans.”

I shifted uncomfortably. The ground beneath me seemed to have suddenly become hard and uneven.

Lady Una studied her fingernails in the moonlight. “There's no need to squirm doctor. You did what you thought was right. There's no shame in that. I trust you.”

“I'm really not sure why.”

She turned her pale face to look at me. “Will you trust me in return, doctor?”

“Are you doing this to the others as well?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can't see why you'd single me out for special trust, given what you know. So I suspect you're doing this to Thurlow and Phenice as well, maybe even EON-4. Taking us aside one by one and making an agreement of mutual trust?”

“Maybe I am. Would you like to be the one to turn me down?”

“Hardly.”

“Well then, I'll trust you to help my uncle in his quest. And you'll trust me to dress myself. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, uncertainly.

She leaned back on her gloved hands. “Now perhaps you'll tell me exactly what it is about this view that you find so appealing?”

I looked out into the darkness. There was almost nothing there, just faint gas lamps, moon-silvered rooftops and a sprinkling of stars. “I'm not sure. I just felt the need to get some fresh air and look out to sea. I think I can almost hear it at times, but maybe it's just the blood in my ears.”

She shivered. “It just looks desolate to me. A lot of dirty rooftops and the unfriendly depths of space.”

I laughed. “Country girl.”

She looked a bit bemused at that. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I like the rooftops. It's nice to know there are people behind them, sound asleep. It feels surreal. Like the world behind me is a dream, or this is, and I don't know if I'm awake or not.”

To my great surprise, Lady Una reached over and pinched my arm through my shirt.

“Ouch!”

“Awake,” she stated. “They're both real.”

“Bit too literal. That hurt.”

“I don't know my own strength. But you'll live, I'm sure. How is your rat?”

“Relocated, at least. Still alive, I hope. Certainly finding life harder outside the city than within its walls.”

“Did Prometheus react at all?”

“No. The thing hasn't moved since I first saw it. There's no way to know if it'll react the same way to a hot air balloon with humans in it as it did to a rat tied to a helium balloon. The wind is moving in the right direction, at least. Surprising...” I met her eye. “Surprising that EON-4 managed to get the balloon from Kirkham, don't you think?”

She said nothing.

“I can't keep my eyes open much longer,” I admitted.

“Must be the company.”

“Hardly.”

“Hardly,” she repeated, then, with a twist of her mouth: “I've never flown before.”

“Me neither. There's nothing to worry about though. Flying is perfectly safe.”

“Exactly what are you basing this confidence on?”

“Nobody was ever killed flying through the air,” I answered. “It's falling you have to worry about. Specifically: hitting the ground.”

She smirked. “I should have guessed that was coming. Sweet dreams.”

With another strange and elegant motion, she stood up and offered me a gloved hand to help me to my feet.

*
The following morning we five assembled on the observation post on the top of Fortress City's keep – a rusted, paint-flecked structure that rattled in the wind. Lady Una clutched the railing with one hand, her hoop skirt billowing like a sail. She met my eye and smiled.

When Kirkham's men finished loading the balloon with supplies, they helped us into the basket one by one, and then untied the tether. For a lurching moment, the balloon dropped. And then it buoyed back up, floating on the wind.

Thurlow leaned over the edge, looking down at the charred ruins of no-man's land. “Well, that didn't take long.”

Below us, Prometheus began to extend its jointed legs. With patient deliberation, its inexpressive face turned upwards.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Will our heroes survive the attentions of Prometheus? What horrors lurk beneath them in no-man's land? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

I really can't do anything on Saturdays. I should probably stop planning things for them. Anyway, tomorrow I will hopefully have an update for Gun Mute that fixes a few egregious bugs. I may possibly also be in the mood to drop a few hints about the shape of my next IF project...

Friday Quistis Blogging

There is something about Quistis Trepe. I am not sure what it is.

Further Degeneration

Just in case you thought I'd taken a break from being a Resident Evil fanboy, let me point out that the upcoming CG animated movie Resident Evil: Degeneration now has an offical US website. There's nothing much there at the moment except for the teaser trailer and a promise that more is to come in a week's time...

Another Tiny World, Arbitrarily

Makemake, the second brightest Kuiper Belt Object after Pluto, has officially been categorized as a dwarf planet. As usual, I need to stress that this whole form of categorisation is completely artbitrary, not reflecting any kind of real attribute that these worlds possess or lack. I still think that Asimov came up with the only really valid categorisation for the worlds that orbit a star, dividing them up into gas giants (Jupiter, Saturn et al.) and 'debris' (everything else, including Earth).

But I do like the dwarf planet category, if only because it highlights worlds that might otherwise never make the spotlight. So: Makemake. It's bright. It's in the Kuiper Belt. At 1600 km across, we're confident that it's probably pretty round.

Not about to steal Best in Show from Ceres any time soon, methinks.

Hat tip: Planetary Society Blog

Robo-Brain

So I opened up my old, broken computer and took the hard drive out. Not really sure what to do with it now, but there is some stuff on it that I'd like to save if I can.

The post-it warning might seem a bit paranoid until you see the huge magnet on the shelf where I normally put random things.

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 4

Previously: “Searching for the missing EON units, we found ourselves trapped in Fortress City, the way ahead guarded by a renegade Sky Spider machine...”

Part 4: The Delinquent Child

The walls of Fortress City weren't, as those who had never seen them often imagined, a single impenetrable barrier, but instead were layered like a half-disintegrated onion, inner barriers mounting up to the main walls, outer trenches and barricades devolving into tank traps and the lethal gaze of the city's big guns.

Halfway to no-man's land, buried beneath an avalanche of sandbags and topped with an unmanned machine-gun post, was a squat and eroded pillbox, its slit eyes peering out across the wasteland. Inside, feeling the oppressive weight of cold stone on all sides, I met Suzette for the first time in five years.

“Well,” she said, looking at me through a bristling multitude of lenses, “look which lizard decided to come crawling out of its hole.”

“Hello, Suzette,” I answered flatly, “I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you again. I brought a friend. We need you to tell us about Prometheus.”

Suzette somehow succeeded in peering over her goggles. “An EON unit, presumably the fourth one, the one that came back empty handed.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” EON-4 said.

“That's a philosophical proposition in itself,” Suzette responded. “Are you really pleased to see me – or just programmed to say that you are?”

EON-4's eye swivelled and refocused on her. “It seems you have better reason to believe I am pleased to meet you than I have to believe the same of you.”

With a clattering of cogs, the cradle from which Suzette dangled repositioned her closer to the narrow windows, her feet dangling a few centimetres above the floor. “A tin can with a sense of humour,” she mused. “What wonderful toys you bring for me, Gleve.”

She leaned forward to peer through a pair of binoculars mounted on the lip of the window, and grasped a brass speaking tube with emaciated fingers. “Position unchanged,” she said. “Declination thirty degrees, range four hundred metres.”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “You might care to cover your ears.”

I did so, just in time to have my bones thoroughly shaken up by the thunderous report of the city guns.

Suzette, unrattled, looked back through the binoculars. “Visual contact lost,” she told the speaking tube. “Target presumed destroyed.”

With a further clattering, Suzette's cradle crawled along its track on the ceiling, carrying her on a veering path towards an untidy desk of maps and telegrams. Curiosity overcame me and I stepped into her place to look through the binoculars.

“How are the other members of the Select Committee?” Suzette asked nonchalantly. “Did any of the others ever turn up, or are you still the only survivor?”

All I could see was a cluster of smoking craters in the churned-up mud. My eye picked out movement among the haze of dust and debris thrown up by the barrage, and my imagination shaped that movement into strange and horrific forms. “We need to learn about Prometheus,” I said. “We're part of a group hoping to get to the Twisted Forests by the most direct route possible.”

Suzette snorted. “The most direct route would be to load you into a shell and blast you across.”

I stood up and walked over to stand by her side at the table of maps. “A novel idea, unfortunately requiring more development time than we have to spare.”

“Only if you want to survive the journey,” Suzette said. She laid a finger on one of the maps, right next to a small plastic toy crab. “Prometheus. Our over-enthusiastic little guard dog. If the Sky Spiders can't get past it, you sure as hell won't.”

“How did you gain control of it in the first place?”

“We didn't. We still haven't. We raised it from the larval form we stole from the Sky Spiders during the battle for Unity City. A huge stroke of luck, some call it. I just call it the best thing that we were able to achieve with a million deaths. We raised it, so it respects us, in some alien fashion. But that doesn't mean that it likes us, or that it'll stop short of hurting us.”

I looked down at the map, trying to interpret the spaghetti of trenches and contour lines. “We need to distract it,” I said. “Lure it to the other side of the scorched earth.”

“How?” Suzette asked. “Don't think we haven't tried before. It only responds to genuine threats, and then it responds with lethal force.”

“What kind of lethal force?”

Suzette shrugged, the cradle rocking with the motion. “We're not entirely sure. Things that it takes an especial dislike to seem to... implode.”

“Interesting.”

EON-4 stepped forward. “What about aerial targets?”

Suzette looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“Prometheus destroys anything that enters the scorched earth, but do things in the air qualify as having entered it?”

Suzette frowned. “No idea.”

“Isn't there a hot-air balloon at the top of the fortress?” I asked.

“Yes, and it goes straight up and comes straight back down. It's tethered. We've only got the one, and we need it for spotting distant artillery targets.”

“We'd only need to borrow it. You can get it back as soon as the wind changes.”

Suzette was evidently far from impressed. “We still have no reason to believe that Prometheus won't pop you in mid-air, assuming the wind even carries you far enough in the right direction.”

“Experiment,” I said. “Experiment and observation. We don't know at the moment, but we will very shortly, I promise you.”

She smirked. “Kirkham will never agree to it.”

EON-4 spoke up again. “Perhaps I can help there. John Kirkham has requested to dine with me this evening. To discuss philosophy, I believe – that is my primary function, after all. Perhaps I can persuade him to relinquish the balloon to us, in the hopes that we will be able to return it.”

“Perhaps you can.” Suzette removed her goggles and looked me in the eye. “Well, I can only wish you the best of luck on your insane suicide mission, Gleve. At least this time my husband won't be going with you.”

“Thank you Suzette,” I said, earnestly. “I can only...”

I couldn't find the words. I just mumbled a goodbye and left.

Outside, EON-4 looked across the ruined landscape at the distant silhouette of Prometheus. “I feel quite confident that things are progressing well,” he said.

“Really?” I answered, starting to head back into the city. “I don't.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Will our heroes make it to the Twisted Forests? Will Prometheus mind them passing over its head? What happens when a hot-air balloon implodes anyway? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Friday Racing Driver Blogging

Credit: paulwoolrich
Some rights reserved

Lewis Hamilton, recent winner of the British Grand Prix, to much rejoicing.

Quite Incurable

Not that I don't have anything better to do right now (for example: sleeping, it's almost 1am), but I've uploaded a new version of Poizoned Mind that runs under Windows Vista without Aero switching off. Note that the URL to the old version (hosted on Willhostforfood) still works - and still points to the old version.

I may release a similar fix for Space Shot during my next bout of insomnia.

One thing I keep toying with is the idea of releasing a "Gold Edition" for Poizoned Mind, with the option to turn on proper line wrapping. But then I always feel a chill breeze, and an electric blue George Lucas materialises over my shoulder, giving me an encouraging nod, and suddenly I feel like maybe I should leave things as they are.

Spot the Difference

Saturn, Late 2004

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Saturn, 2007.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Saturn, 2008.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

And because I've gone on about Saturn's not being blue about as much as I can (it is not blue anymore, end of information), read this news item on Cassini entering the second phase of its mission, and this nice little summary of its mission so far.

(Also, as Saturn approaches equinox, the shadows cast by the rings are getting much thinner.)

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 3

Previously: Five of us were chosen by the viscount to find the missing EON units and uncover the secrets of the Sky Spiders. Heading towards the nearest EON, we reached the outskirts of Fortress City.

Part 3: Fortress City

Fortress City was a sprawling imbroglio of noise and activity. A million people were crammed into crooked, soot-blackened houses, trying frantically to convince themselves that human civilisation continued as normal. Then again, perhaps for them, in those brief few years, it actually did.

Moving inland from Circhester, we actually couldn't see the main fortifications that protected the city – just the encircling wall of ancient stone and a few token watch towers guarding against a hypothetical threat from the coast. It seemed like any other city you might find in the world: trees and fields giving way to buildings and cobbled roads dotted with wrought iron gas lamps. The exception, of course, was that in this city, people thronged the streets, hurrying about their business, loitering happily, hawking their scavenged wares.

We moved into the city on foot, some of the viscount's men struggling to follow us through the crowds with our belongings strapped securely to a horse-drawn cart. Lady Una glided ahead of us, her hoop skirt moving smoothly over the cobblestones as if her feet didn't even touch the ground, and I found myself walking alongside Sigrid Phenice, the gruff soldier. She stomped along with one hand on the strap of the rifle slung over her shoulder, head down, showing little interest in small-talk. Which suited me fine. The last five years had done strange things to my humour.

Ahead of us, the central keep rose out of the city, town houses clinging to it like barnacles. An ancient castle, now hybridised with the great steel machinery of modern artillery – fat factory chimneys, enormous loading cogs, and the long barrels of obscenely huge cannon. At the highest point, a railed observation platform jutted out from the ramparts, tethered to the colourful bubble of a hot air balloon.

“Quite a sight, isn't it?” Thurlow called out from behind. “Gives new meaning to the phrase 'human scale'. Affirming to one's sense of significance, don't you think?”

I glanced at Sigrid and met her eye.

She declined to answer the Major's remark; as did I.

At that moment, several of the fortress guns opened up, a series of thunderous reports that sounded deep in your bones before it reached your ears. The clouded sky flashed bright white. And the people of Fortress City continued to bustle around us, unconcerned. Certainly, the guns didn't fire again that time, and whatever they were shooting at must, at the very least, have decided to hastily reconsider its course of action.

I glanced about me at the other travellers. They hid it well, but I could see that, like me, they were starting to mull over the thought of moving past those guns and towards what they aimed at. Well, each of the travellers but EON-4, its featureless head bobbing mechanically as it walked.

*
John Kirkham said there was no way across the zone of scorched earth dividing Fortress City from the rest of the continent. And he took us out on his balcony to show us why.

I'd heard the name John Kirkham enough times, but never met him. His house was pressed up right against the inside of the front wall of the fortress keep. A huge circular door was set in the wall of his sitting room, like the entrance to the innermost vault of the world's most paranoid bank. On the other side was Kirkham's balcony, an elegant affair with a small circular table in one corner.

“I like to take my afternoon tea here,” he told us, “and meditate on the state of the world from above.”

I looked out at the world as John Kirkham saw it. It was a barren expanse of churned-up mud, divided up by trenches and craters, and dotted here and there with the splintered wooden forms of tank traps and dead trees.

“Yes,” Thurlow said. “I can see the appeal.”

Lady Una stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on the balcony's ornate railing. “It certainly won't be easy to cross,” she said. “But hardly impossible.”

There was no way to tell what expression Kirkham really had, behind that immobile mask of gold, but somehow I got the impression he was smiling. “You think that because you haven't seen it yet.”

“Seen what yet?” Lady Una asked, a little curtly.

Kirham raised a hand to point across the wasteland. “Prometheus.”

It was something that I'd assumed was a part of the landscape, a low and midnight black mound like an outcrop of rock or a burnt-out building. But actually looking at it, it was unlike anything Earthly. Its complete blackness had a kind of vibrant sheen, something that's difficult to explain unless you've seen something like it before. Which, of course, we all had. Except...

“It's a Sky Spider machine,” Thurlow hissed, stepping back warily towards the door.

Kirkham clasped his hands together. “Actually, it's our Sky Spider machine.”

“That face,” I said. “That human face, like a statue.”

The others stepped up to the railing to look. Overall, the thing looked like a curled up crab or closed fist, fat appendages bunched up beneath it. But what perhaps had lead to us overlooking it as some hill or ruin was the way it was topped with a human head and shoulders, completely immobile and inexpressive. A human head and shoulders, I now realised, with the same serenely beautiful features as Kirkham's mask.

“I'm impressed,” I said, speaking under my breath. “Very impressed.”

Kirkham touched a finger to his golden lips. “I wouldn't be too eager with your praise, doctor. Prometheus is a blunt weapon. Effective, but destructive and unrefined. It destroys anything that enters the scorched ground. In this way it keeps the city safe from incursion - and also prevents us from moving inland. I'm sure that you all arrived on this side of the scorched ground by sea, and that's how I recommend you cross to the other side.”

“That's not an option,” Lady Una stated flatly. “It would increase the length of our journey across open country tenfold, and take us right past Unity City. We'd stand a much better chance of passing Prometheus, especially since it is, apparently, a known quantity.”

Kirkham spread his hands, palms upward. “Not quite as known as we'd like, otherwise we'd stop it from attacking us too.”

Lady Una didn't seem to enjoy Kirkham's sense of humour. She looked from his golden mask towards me. “See that Dr Gleve is given every relevant piece of information regarding Prometheus,” she instructed Kirkham. “We'll be crossing the scorched ground as soon as we can. We need to know anything that might distract or allay this creature – or machine, whatever it is.”

With that she glided back through the vault door, the others following close behind her. Thurlow paused to slap me hard on the back, laughing to himself.

“Doctor,” Kirkham said, turning his golden face to me, “I'm hardly capable of giving you such technical details myself, so I'll refer you to Suzette. Professor Suzette Layling – I believe you must know her from the Imperial Society?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I know her.”

This was just getting better and better. Even if the Sky Spider war machine wasn't going to murder me, Suzette certainly would.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: What is Prometheus? Does it have a weakness? And what's the deal between Peregrine and Suzette? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Last three books I read...

Ubik, Philip K. Dick

After reading A Scanner Darkly, I read quite a few other books by PKD, but none gave me quite the same sense of 'wow'. Until Ubik, that is. This book freaked me out, moved me to tears and made me laugh. (It also features a minor character called Edie Dorn who I fell for hopelessly.)

The Prefect, Alistair Reynolds

Not one of Reynolds' best books, but it's interesting to explore an earlier and more civilised (by some standards) period of his future history, even if it means the gorgeously baroque and gothic elements of many of his works are toned down somewhat.

What Was Lost, Catherine O'Flynn

A story divided between tales of childhood loneliness and adult disaffection, tempered with good humour and strong characterisation. It works better in its slice-of-life character-driven moments, but the plot threads come together nicely in the end.

Metropolis Un-Amputated

So it turns out a museum in Buenos Aires has been in possession of a complete copy of the visually entrancing Metropolis the whole time - including the quarter of the film chopped out and believed lost forever when it was dumbed-down for American audiences. Read the full story at Zeit Online.

Hat tip: Twitch

Reviews +2

I've added another couple of reviews to the Interactive Fiction Database, this time of Vespers and Downtown Tokyo, Present Day (pictured above).

Birthday Boy

Look who's twelve!

(He was 12 weeks in this photo.)

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 2

Previously: Five strangers were summoned to the bedside of the ailing viscount: a dashing officer, a straightforward markswoman, a humanoid philosophy engine, the viscount’s mysterious and tightly-laced niece, and me: a scientist of the Imperial Society. There we learned of the four missing EON units: thinking machines that might hold the secrets of the Sky Spiders. After five years of silence, one had made contact, claiming that the others were still functioning as well. Any attempt to reach them, however, would be fraught with danger...

Part 2: Caged Birds

A slender silhouette against the white light of morning, Major Thurlow slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “Anything that might turn the tide against the crawlies,” he said, his mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “This is the perfect time for desperate gambits.”

I nodded. “We lose because we fight creatures millions of years in advance of us. Any chance to play catch-up is a chance worth taking.”

EON-4’s small glass eye flicked from me to the viscount. “Naturally, I wish to learn the fate of the other EON units. Perhaps even to fulfil my own purpose.”

We all turned to Sigrid. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her cuff. “Yeah, okay, count me in.”

The viscount’s head protruded from the thick sheets of the four poster bed. The conversation was underpinned by the wheezing and whirring of his life support machinery - anonymous chemical cylinders and inelegant pumps. Slowly, his bald, wrinkled head was deformed by a spreading smile. He grinned broadly, his eyes acquiring a glassy sheen.

Close by his side, Lady Una touched a gloved hand to the viscount’s forehead. “My uncle needs to rest now,” she stated. “If you gather your belongings and wait in the courtyard, we should begin without any further delay.”

Sigrid met the lady’s eye warily. “Where exactly are we going?”

I cleared my throat. “EON-5 was despatched to a location in the Twisted Forests. That’s closer than any of the others.”

Thurlow gave me a surprised look. “You seem to know a fair bit about this yourself.”

I said nothing in reply.

Lady Una stepped away from her uncle. “Detailed plans have been prepared. Copies of endless scenarios and debates from the Academy and the Imperial Society exist in this estate’s libraries. Almost all of them are hopelessly out of date, even after such a short amount of time, but...” She lowered her head. “You should consider me to be perfectly versed in all of the necessary details. And as the doctor said, the EON unit in the Greyham Forest - now the ‘Twisted Forests’ - is the closest, and arguably the easiest to reach.”

Thurlow laughed - a dry sound that expressed little in the way of actual humour. “Relatively speaking. I had the pleasure of passing through those forests on my way north a few years ago. Even then, well...” He laughed again in the same manner.

Lady Una stepped in between the Major and me, heading for the door. She stood by it, looking back at us pointedly. “My uncle needs to rest,” she repeated. “And I have business to attend to.”

One by one, we filed out of the viscount’s room. Behind us, the machinery that kept him alive whirred and gurgled.

*
Like the others, I’d arrived late the night before and been given one of the guest rooms to sleep in. My belongings sat in a neat little pile in the corner. Not that I had much with me: a satchel with a couple of changes of clothes, a case containing what few of my instruments had survived the past few years, and a leather holster containing a revolver and a dozen or so rounds of ammunition. I took off my jacket to slip on the holster, threw the satchel over my shoulder, took hold of my case, and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Things were so quiet, outside in the countryside of Circhester, that it was unreal to me. Wind rustling through leaves, birds chirping - and in the distance, like a half-heard whisper, the soft sound of the sea. If the gates to the viscount’s estate weren’t being watched by a man sitting cross-legged at the tripod of a Gatling gun, I could almost have convinced myself that none of the events of the past half a decade had occurred.

I found Lady Una by accident, around the side of the mansion. She stood by stacks of wooden cages, opening them one by one.

I was just turning to leave her alone when she said, without looking at me, “Curiosity is the foremost virtue of a man or woman of science, don’t you think, doctor?”

I was caught completely on the wrong foot. “I’m sorry?”

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, her reserved features forming the barest hint of a smile. “You came to see what I was doing.”

I shrugged. “I could see birds flying away from here. I was...”

“Curious.”

“Exactly.”

She stepped to the next cage, grasped the latch carefully between a gloved thumb and forefinger, and opened it. After a few seconds, a small black bird leapt out, flapping intermittently, climbing slowly up into the white overcast sky.

“These are your birds, I presume?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered, opening the next cage. This bird seemed more reluctant to fly the coop, and she shooed it out with a wave of her hand. “Actually, no, not any more. I’m letting them all go. It would be cruel to leave them caged when I can’t be sure that I’ll ever be back. I let them out once a day anyway, but this time they’ll have to fend for themselves.”

“Perhaps some of them will still be around when you come back,” I suggested.

She smiled. “Birds have short memories. And they’ll have to have learned to live from the land by then anyway. That, or die. They’ll belong to themselves, one way or another.”

A small bird, emerald blue, descended suddenly from above and settled on Una’s shoulder. She laughed, almost startling me with the sound. “This one’s lovely, isn’t she?” she said, softly, looking at the bird as it looked back at her, turning its head from side to side to use each eye in turn. “I expect she’ll be one of the first to die.”

“The light that burns twice as bright...” I began.

Una smiled, sadly. “But isn’t she stupid really? Too trusting?”

I shook my head. “She’s just curious.”

The bird turned to look at me, as if noticing me for the first time.

“The little bird scientist,” Una said. “Trying to understand the creature that cages her.”

“Like us and the Sky Spiders.”

With that Una’s smile faded. “Yes. Yes, I often think so myself. Sometimes I try to imagine how well my birds understand the idea of a cage, of the food dispensers - the idea of me, even. And I’m left thinking that they probably only have the vaguest grasp of the concepts. I don’t imagine it improving much, either.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised. A lot of birds can be very intelligent, as I understand it. Some of them might well be able to get it, to an extent.”

Lady Una opened the last cage and then raised a hand to her shoulder, shooing the curious bird scientist away. “I suspect the Sky Spiders have similar conversations about us,” she said, solemnly. “Only more in the manner of the owners of a factory farm of chickens. On which note, I think we should find the others and get moving. I intend for us to be in Fortress City within a day and a half - right at the bars of the cage.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Our five adventurers arrive in Fortress City and find that the place is far from as safe as its name might imply... Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Friday Muse Blogging

Urania (left), muse of astronomy and Calliope (right) muse of epic and heroic poetry. I figure I need both of them on my side if I'm going to finish Sky Spiders...

The Procedural Generation Competition is over - Space Shot placed joint 19th, out of 60 entrants - very respectable given how slight a game it is. In the end, I didn't vote, as dealing with the fallout of my recent computer switch took a huge chunk out of my free time, but I'm looking forward to playing through the rest of the entries.

Find all the PCG games here.

"Some of my best friends are Warner Brothers"

What happened when Groucho Marx got a cease and desist letter from Warner Brothers? Find out here.

Sublime Ground

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona
/Texas A&M University

Any doubts that Phoenix might have landed on the wrong spot have been dispelled, as the white layer dug up by the robot's arm has been seen to be subliming* away over time - confirming, according to NASA scientists, the existence of ice.

*The low temperature and pressure on Mars conspire to make liquid water impossible to exist, so when ice heats up it will instead sublime straight to water vapour.

Oh, and a Sol is a Martian day, but you knew that. ;-)

Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders: Part 1

Pulp adventure... begin!

Part 1: The Five

By the time I met him, the viscount was more machine than man. The master bedroom of his ancestral home - a place of dark, ancient wood - was filled with paint-flecked metal cylinders and pumps. A multitude of hoses snaked under the covers of his bed, connecting with the lumpy figure beneath in ways I cared not to think about. Only the viscount’s head emerged from the sheets: bald, shrivelled and wrinkled in the harsh white light of morning.

The hissing, wheezing machinery left little room for the five of us standing around his bed. We stood uncomfortably close together for complete strangers, all our eyes turned to that little head on its pillow.

The viscount’s eyes swivelled around in their sockets, scrutinising us one by one. “You’re all here,” he observed, his voice dry and weak. “And I’m sure you all want to know why. I’m also sure you each have your suspicions - some more accurate than others. Let me confirm what I’m sure is obvious: this concerns the Sky Spiders. But these days, what doesn’t?”

I glanced at the person to my right, a short and stocky woman, weather-worn and dressed like a navvy. She met my eye and then turned her gaze back to the viscount.

“I can’t promise anything profound,” he continued. “In all likelihood this will amount to nothing. But there exists out there a potential source of knowledge about the Sky Spiders. We have no way of knowing what this knowledge is, what advantage it might confer on us - if any. But we have a duty to human civilisation to find it. Our first duty is always to learn, to grow, to try to overcome our problems, however insurmountable they may seem. But first, allow me to make formal introductions.”

He fixed his eyes on me. “Dr Peregrine Gleve from the Imperial Society of Science.”

I straightened my tie reflexively. “I’ll be glad to help in whatever way I can.”

The viscount turned to the man to my left, a dapper fellow in a black suit, his hair slicked back and his thin moustache filed to points. “Major Fabian Thurlow, formerly of Her Imperial Majesty’s Tropical Expeditionary Force.”

He bowed, elegantly. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Next, a figure in a three piece suit, it’s head a slender column of shiny steel. “EON-4, from the Academy for Machine Intelligence.”

A gentle voice emerged from it. “It is my pleasure to serve.”

Now the viscount looked to the stocky woman to my right. “Sigrid Phenice, formerly of the 4th Company Rifles.”

She just nodded like we were all casual acquaintances in a bar. “Sirs. Madam.”

Finally, the viscount turned to the young woman by his bedside: tall and slender, her plain, reserved face set on top of the high collar of her dress, her figure devolving below the waist into a broad hoop skirt that reached the floor. “And this is my niece, Lady Una. A mathematician and naturalist, to be my delegate on this endeavour.”

She looked around at us. “I can’t claim to be worthy of the Imperial Academy, but I hope my studies may still be of some use.”

The viscount’s head produced a smile. A somewhat gruesome gesture. “My niece is too modest for her own good. Now, allow me to get down to business. First I must relate some details of recent history which some of you are likely to be more familiar with than others. The pertinent events occur five years ago.”

Major Thurlow looked at me and winked. “Quite a few more pertinent events to be found then compared to these more turgid times.”

The viscount laughed, the sound rattling through his ancient lungs. “Yes, indeed! Following the arrival of the Sky Spiders - a rather pertinent event, you’ll agree Major - and working from the assumption that such an advanced civilisation must rely heavily on technology similar to our own analytical engines, the Academy for Machine Intelligence rushed the EON series of humanoid philosophy engines to completion.

“Five units were constructed, and each was tasked with infiltrating a Sky Spider structure deemed likely to house analytical machinery - their ultimate goal being to interface with this machinery and obtain intelligence. One by one, telegrams reporting success were received from each EON unit. Of the five, however, only one returned.”

EON-4 stepped forward. “I think it is important to be honest, your Lordship. Full possession of the facts guards one against the unexpected. I was certainly the only EON unit to return. I was also the only one to fail to achieve the mission objective. It does not, therefore, seem improbable that it was exactly the act of succeeding at their mission that resulted in the disappearance of EON units one, two, three and five. Disappearance, that is,” EON-4 fixed the single glass lens in its featureless head on the viscount, “until now.”

The viscount nodded. “Una, show them the telegram.”

Lady Una turned to a tiny bedside table tucked in among the dense forest of hoses leading into her uncle’s bed. She carefully opened a narrow drawer and took a folded piece of paper between gloved fingertips, passing it first to the Major, who, after studying it for perhaps half a minute, passed it to me. This is what I read:

TO: VISCOUNT CYRUS OF CIRCHESTER
FROM: EON-2

AWAITING FURTHER CONTACT FROM ACADEMY STOP ATTEMPTING TO CONTACT MEMBERS INDIVIDUALLY STOP CURRENTLY ENSCONCED IN FAR NORTH STOP POSSESS VITAL INFORMATION COMMA AS DO OTHER EON UNITS STOP HAVE CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE THAT OTHER UNITS STILL FUNCTIONING COMMA EXCEPT EON-4 END

I handed the telegram to Sigrid. She studied it carefully and then gave it to EON-4.

After a few seconds, EON-4 reached up a silvery hand to mime the action of scratching its head. “Most peculiar.”

“EON-2 was sent to a structure in the far north of the continent. Apparently, it is still in the vicinity of that location. The other EON units weren’t sent quite so far. I think it’s fair to surmise that they are also still close to the locations of their objectives.

“But if they’re so close, relatively speaking,” I began, “why didn’t they come back?”

“Perhaps they were captured,” Major Thurlow suggested. “Perhaps EON-2 has only recently escaped. Out in what was once the world of humans, wondering what the hell happened to the Academy for Machine Intelligence.”

Sigrid cleared her throat, awkwardly. “I take it then, your Lordship, that you intend for us five to try and find one of these EON units and see what exactly they know about the Sky Spiders?”

“If you are willing,” the viscount said, “yes. It will be dangerous, of course.”

The Major scoffed. “Simply existing is dangerous these days.”

“But that’s while trying to avoid the Spiders,” Sigrid said. “For this, we’ll need to head right for the heart of their spidery business.”

“There’s more,” the viscount added.

EON-4 looked at each of us in turn with its glassy eye. “Yes. It is possible that the failure of the mission was inevitable. That the disappearance of the four other EON units was an intrinsic result of the information they learned - a factor that may not be restricted to machine intelligences.”

“In short,” the viscount said, “I’m asking you to look into the mind of the Sky Spiders. And hoping that it won’t drive you mad.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next week: Will this disparate five accept the viscount’s mission? What can have happened to the missing four EONs? And what the hell is a Sky Spider anyway? Check back in a week’s time for the next instalment of Into the Mind of the Sky Spiders!

Friday Medieval Guy Blogging

These medieval guys are stabbing one another.

Historians believe this may be why everyone from the Middle Ages is now dead.

Hundreds and Thousands

Image source with larger version
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

I'm still settling in to my new computer (here's something you can do right now: burn a CD of all the free programs you've downloaded, so you won't have to find them all again), so here's a pretty picture: Martian soil sprinkled on a blob of silicate and photographed by Phoenix's microscope. The white bar in the bottom left shows the scale of one millimetre.

Right, so...

Just a quick note that my computer died, and with it my ability to blog securely and privately. On the plus side, I've written the first two parts of the upcoming serial, so you have that to look forward to when I get a new PC. Which should be some time... well, in the future...

Ice Beneath

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/
University of Arizona/Max Planck Institute

"We were expecting to find ice within two to six inches of the surface," said Peter Smith of the University of Arizona, Tucson, principal investigator for Phoenix. "The thrusters have excavated two to six inches and, sure enough, we see something that looks like ice. It's not impossible that it's something else, but our leading interpretation is ice."

Camera on Arm Looks Beneath NASA Mars Lander

Of course, we've seen ice on Mars before, from orbit, but we've never before been within (robotic) arm's length of the stuff. Any worries that the immobile Phoenix lander might be sitting on the wrong spot have surely been allayed a little, though it's not until we actually start digging that we'll know for sure.

Arctic Martian Postcard

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/
University of Arizona/Texas A&M University

I always like an image from space that includes a part of the spacecraft. It gives a great sense of immediacy, of presence. Hence the image above, from Phoenix.

Phoenix has been wiggling its arm, looking around, and shining a laser at the sky. It's all fun and games when you're a robot on Mars - until the ice begins to encroach, at least.

Space Shot: Activate Go!

In space, no-one can hear you swear incoherently.

UNTIL NOW.

For the TIGSource Procedural Generation Competition, it's...

Space Shot
A procedurally generated space adventure with rectangles.
Version 1.0 - Windows - 2Mb
Click here to download!


"Greetings astronaut! Your country needs you! Needs you to be blasted permanently into space! In space you will meet many strange beings! Some are your enemies! Some are your friends! Shoot your enemies until they die! Trade with your friends to improve your spaceship!

You never know what you will find in space! It is a big place! The amazing stories will amaze you!"

Features:

• Hardcore shmup action with an RPG twist.
• 2Mb file is for hardcore broadband users only.
• Randomised encounters with mysterious aliens.
• Realistic binary personality generator creates both obsequiously friendly and ragingly hostile characters.
• Upgrade hard science fiction components such as 'length' and 'width' from their initial, random settings.
• High definition depiction of rectangles is ready for the plasma screen era.
• Incessant swearing.
• Uncompromising realism depicts the monotony of space travel.

---

Includes a tune by The Suit used under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 license, and a tune by Chibibo used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Netherlands license.

Losing the Blues

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

This new(ish) Cassini image, intended to illustrate Saturn's cloudtops, demonstrates just how unequivocally not-blue the northern hemisphere is becoming. It's quite a shame, I think, to see the planet lose its colour. Still, the southern hemisphere will presumably be turning blue once its own winter sets in. The Saturnian year is only thirty times longer than ours, so it can't be long to wait...

Ice and Phoenix

Image source with larger version
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

Someone who is feeling very healthy this (Earthly) morning: NASA's Phoenix, successfully landed on the Martian arctic. No ice visible yet: but that's expected to change over the next three months, culminating ultimately in the craft failing due to the intense cold, half-buried beneath perhaps a metre of carbon dioxide ice.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

The operational limit on the Mars Rovers, you may recall, was anticipated to be when their solar panels became completely covered in dust - an event that ultimately never occurred due to frequent gusts of wind. Phoenix is a stationary lander, but its own solar panels are pretty nifty: fan-like things that only gracefully unfurled once the dust thrown up during landing had settled.

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

You may have noticed that Phoenix was pretty quick with the colour images compared to many missions. This is a good sign, but also a bit cheeky. Cheeky because these are 'approximate' colour images. But a good sign, I think, because rushing out some less-than-faithful colour images early shows that the folks behind Phoenix have learnt from the good example of Cassini (and the not so good example of a few other space missions) that it's important to capture the public's interest with striking imagery. Although more scientifically useful data is what will ultimately expand our knowledge (and awe) of the Solar System, it's the way these robots lend us the ability to vicariously experience its sights that makes us so eager to send them out in the first place.

The next big news from Phoenix will be once it has tried sampling the surrounding ice and permafrost, unlocking secrets about the history and habitability of the red planet.

Springtime on Saturn

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

As the ringed planet's northern hemisphere enters spring, it becomes increasingly clear that its former blue tinge (see this image, for example), was the result of some winter process.

The blue top to the planet was a bit of a surprise when Cassini first arrived. No previous probe had observed this effect, and since it is further from the sun than the Earth, Saturn's winter hemisphere is always aimed away from our observatories on the ground, and concealed behind the rings.

I've been in a reviewing kind of mood lately, so I finally made use of my account at the Interactive Fiction Database to post reviews of a couple of games: Kathleen M. Fischer's Masquerade and an adaptation of Metroid.

I am not my DNA

I have to breathe a sigh of relief that religious distaste for mixing human DNA and animal cells has failed to result in a ban on promising medical research - by a huge margin of votes.

Lots of pompous orators have been keen to go on about how this is 'plainly immoral', 'tampering with life' and 'Frankenstein science'. Fortunately, it seems that our MPs understand that mixing unfeeling chemicals and cell structures in a petri dish hurts no-one (except vein-popping anthropocentrists) and may potentially ease the suffering of living, breathing human beings.

"Take that! Ha!"

It perhaps indicates that I've reached that dreaded point in any gamer's life when you realise that it's taking you months to complete lengthy games, but I've devoted a lot of my Wii time to Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles this past month precisely because I know that it's easy to pick up and put down. This is a game divided into discrete, bite-size, but inter-related chapters - each of which, while often nicely challenging, can typically be completed in twenty or thirty minutes. Compared to the main line of Resident Evil games – exploration-based with an emphasis on the conservation of ammunition, full of tough boss fights and with save points moderately spaced – this all-guns blazing rail shooter is definitely Resident Evil: The Casual Game. Not that this is a bad thing.

As the title suggests, Umbrella Chronicles spans the events before Resident Evil 4, detailing the rise and fall of the Umbrella corporation from the first grisly events in the Raccoon City forests to its last desperate gambit. Along the way we retread, in rail shooter format, the events of Resident Evil 0, Resident Evil and Resident Evil 3, before unveiling the previously unrevealed swansong of Umbrella, deep in the frozen wastes of Siberia. Completing these chapters also unlocks a number of side-misions, filling in the stories of secondary characters, with an especial focus on unflappable, black-clad Albert Wesker.

Gameplay in Umbrella Chronicles is, on the face of it, very simple. The wii remote acts as a pointer for a set of crosshairs and pulling the trigger-like B button fires your character's gun. The screen takes a first person view, creeping carefully through claustrophobic corridors and devastated streets. Perhaps because this movement is largely out of your control, Umbrella Chronicles does a better job of creating a sense of POV than most first person shooters. At times the characters do seem to be a bit dense in terms of when they choose to look at obvious threats, but typically there's a nice pace to things, as the view sweeps around fearfully, with little clue as to when danger will strike.

An additional layer of complexity is added in the form of special weapons with limited ammunition, and difficult-to-perform critical hits that can allow you to defeat dangerous or plentiful foes with your infinite ammo handgun. There's also a fair bit of button bashing and wii-mote waving to avoid attacks during boss fights and cut scenes; while quickly shaking the wii-mote after a zombie latches onto you will cause your character to pull off a stylish counter-attack. Some of the characters seem to just perform the same boring punch, but Rebecca uses a grenade, Jill tasers and kicks (while shouting "Take that! Ha!" a line I must have heard about a hundred times already), while Wesker and Hunk perform their trademark 'thrust punch' (think The Matrix) and 'neck snap' (a move as balletic as it is brutal) respectively. It's an interesting mechanic in that it shows how a player who is doing badly can both be leant a hand by a game (when it's been a bad day for aiming, I've counter-attacked my way through whole hoards of zombies) and even be given a conciliatory reward in the form of a neat little cut scene (and catchy exclamation - "Take that! Ha!").

As a digest of the story so far (RE4 and RE: Code Veronica notwithstanding), Umbrella Chronicles naturally seems like a good stepping-on point for those unfamiliar with the series, while by fleshing out some of the events taking place in the shadows, there's also plenty here for die-hard fans as well. Similarly, the system of ranks and rewards means that playing for fun, or playing to obsessively hone your skills, are both equally valid approaches to the game. Above all, though, owning Umbrella Chronicles means I can always spend twenty minutes killing zombies with some of my favourite video game characters. Simple, undemanding, engaging, and above all: fun.

Friday Joan Blogging

Joan of Arc.

48 Degrees North

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA-JPL

Eleven days until Phoenix touches down. I'm kind of hoping for a significantly different view of Mars from anything we've yet seen from the ground. Phoenix will be landing at about 68 degrees north, while Viking 2, which provided the image above, experienced the most polar conditions of any (surviving) lander so far, at a relatively balmy 48 degrees north. The white-ish parts of this image are a thin layer of water frost.

And no, it's not just you. Viking 2 landed on a rock, and as such was at a funny angle. Not something that rovers have to worry about, but a big concern among Phoenix's fretful parents, I'm sure.

So, Anyway...

This is what's currently eating up my spare time: my entry for the latest TIGSource competition. It's a genre-defying interactive experience that will push the boundaries of the artform into uncharted waters and punch the sharks of apathy on the nose with hands soaked in fish-blood.

Or perhaps it's just a load of rectangles shooting little squares at one another and changing shape and colour while randomly assembled, barely coherent messages appear at the top of the screen. It is surely a debate that will only be decided by posterity, long after we are all gone.

Ahem

All day I've been thinking about this little idea I've had for the latest TIGSource competition. I've already implemented the basic engine. Watch this space...

Hopefully it's a good sign that this thing keeps making me laugh.

It's Aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!

Or, more accurately, it now has rudimentary, slightly quirky AI. That's my bank holiday monday morning out of the way.

TIGSource are holding yet another competition. No idea if I'll even think about participating, but it is very, very tempting...

More on Clockwork Hearts

Since a couple of people have picked up on this now, it might be time to provide an update on Blood from Clockwork Hearts. I have plenty of distractions, so progress is slow, however I'm hoping to keep the game relatively simple, so those two factors may cancel out - you never know. ;-)

Clockwork Hearts is going to be a turn-based strategy game with light RPG elements, set in a fantasy world with Napoleonic-era trappings. Much of the basic engine is done, save for the AI and the event scripting (which are also arguably the toughest parts), so, well... we'll see, won't we?

Graphics modified from RLTiles.

Pastel Winds

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Nifty article at the Cassini homepage about Saturn's five month storm (the bright smudge in this image). It's nowhere near the scale (or duration) of Jupiter's Red Spot, but it's still thousands of miles across, and somewhat likely to turn your umbrella inside-out.

Red Dust

Image source
Credit: NASA/JPL

Opportunity's ageing shoulder is starting to experience arthritis; and it's now only 26 days until Phoenix touches down.

Further Excitement

No sooner have I blogged the teaser trailer for Mamoru Oshii's upcoming Sky Crawlers, Twitch report that the full length trailer seems to have escaped onto youTube.

White Skies, Fighter Planes

Some unexpected awesome courtesy of Emily Short's IF Cover Art Drive: a lovely cover image for Snowblind Aces, which now also adorns the game's page on this rocketship.

The person responsible is, as yet, a mystery...

Leatherheads

I finally got around to seeing George Clooney's Leatherheads on Friday. I know that a lot of people seemed disappointed by it, and sure, it's no masterpiece, it doesn't push the envelope at all, and it's not as witty as the screwball comedies it emulates - but it's still a very entertaining, very well directed film - and that's all I was looking for.

Prepare to get Excited

Normally it's a bad thing to hear that a director is attempting to make a 'more popular' film, but given how much Mamoru Oshii has been in danger of disappearing up his own backside with his more recent films, it's pretty cool to see that his next project seems to be mostly about blue skies and fighter planes...

Here Be Dragons

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

Dione - seen here looking especially solid and mysterious - is easily the prettiest of Saturn's grey moons. But it's still difficult to think of a good way to tie it in to St George's Day.

Best. Advert. Ever?

Friday Franchise Blogging

The Resident Evil franchise.

(I am missing a few.)

Our Robot Masters

There's a great - and I'm sure some will consider quite provocative - interview with Lord Martin Rees over at the Beeb. I enjoyed Rees' books Our Cosmic Habitat and Just Six Numbers immensely, and I think he's right on the money when he argues that Europe would be better served focusing on unmanned space exploration rather than chasing after costly and - as yet - unproductive manned missions.

That said, my own wishlist for the European Space Agency would focus more on making them like their NASA counterparts. Visiting the website of a NASA mission - Cassini in particular, but others too - you really get the impression that they're trying to be as open and accessible as they can towards the people who funded them (ie. American tax payers), and by happy extension the rest of us too. ESA, on the other hand, is a more distant organisation, and I always double check their image use policy before posting anything they've come up with - even though it was my money that paid for it.

Or perhaps the ESA robots are just less inclined to be generous towards their squishy progenitors.

Cassini Extended

I doubt you'll be surprised to learn that Cassini's mission - which technically ended in July - has been extended by two years. It's worth checking out the News Release anyway, though, as it has a number of nifty facts about everyone's favourite space robot.

Shhhhhh...

Worn out from playing Wii Sports, I suspect.

Friday Napoleon Blogging

Telephoto Phobos

Image source with larger version
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

My one complaint is that Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter didn't turn its absurdly powerful camera on one of the Martian moons sooner. Presumably some careful conjunction of orbits was required. See the rest of the images here.

Phobos is an almost microscopic 27 km across at its widest point, and orbits Mars in a mere 8 hours. It hugs so close to the equator of its mother planet, that it can't even be seen from higher Martian latitudes.

Hang on, lads; I've got a great idea...

Update: more info here.

Potato Beauty

Image source with more information
Credit: NASA/JPL/Space Science Institute

I was going to post this new image of tiny Saturnian moon Janus, since I'm all for improving the visibility - so to speak - of those small irregular moons and asteroids out there. But in the process, I stumbled on this lovely monochrome image of the same moon, as photographed in September 2006. I have to say, I love it when Cassini is able to get these beautifully shadowed images of Saturn's moons in front of their mother planet. You can't help but get a hint of the astronomical sizes and distances involved.

"Gotta find the exit... Gotta find that exit, to Paradise!"

Travis Touchdown, a detached, unemployed loser, proud owner of a light sabre beam katana purchased in an internet auction, suddenly finds himself the 11th ranked assassin in America. Naturally, he's now bent on getting to number one, in the hopes of amassing fame, fortune and girls - and the only way to do that is to defeat the ten assassins ranked above him. So begins No More Heroes, a unique action-hybrid game about slicing people up with a light sabre beam katana and working in dead-end jobs.

There is some controversy over whether great fountains of blood were inserted into the American version of No More Heroes, or removed from the European and Japanese version - but personally, I can't think of anything more suited to my copy of this game than the way defeated enemies disintegrate into a cloud of black pixels, spurting coins from their severed necks. One of the bravest things that No More Heroes does is unashamedly embrace its gamey-ness.

When every other action game is trying to be the same pseudo-cinematic, over-serious Halo clone, it's nice to see something that's full of beeps and boops, pixellated icons and slacker humour. The characters talk in cartoonish quips, the tone varies on a whim, and those silly little things like 'plot' and 'theme' - while they may be lurking in the background - are happily ridiculed and often sacrificed on the altar of good old-fashioned gameplay. When a useful shopkeeper character dies in the middle of the game, he's still to be found in his old spot, as a ghost, just as able to take your money and provide his services - with hardly a word mentioned about it. No More Heroes is a game that puts more thought into any single instance of slapstick humour than into providing an over-arching sense of emotional progression or resolution. And, hey, why the hell not?

The number one complaint that everyone has with No More Heroes is the attempt to integrate a free-roaming aspect to it. Much of your time in the game takes place in the city of Santa Destroy, driving around its streets on your ridiculously over-sized motorcycle and scouring its alleyways for treasure. And this quickly gets pretty boring. It didn't have to be this way, of course - I've happily spent hours just wandering around Liberty City in GTA3 - but the trouble is that there really are only two things to do in Santa Destroy - drive between established locations and search for treasure. On top of that, the city is completely uninteresting - there are no distinctive building or street designs, no real ambience, hardly any sounds except those of passing cars. If Santa Destroy had any kind of character at all, this free-roaming aspect might actually be pleasant. As it is, it's merely bearable.

Where No More Heroes really excels is in its humorous minigames (trying to work a pump at a petrol station, for example, without setting yourself on fire) and its combat. Great use is made of the wii remote for all these things. In particular, I like the combination of button-bashing to pull off basic attacks and wii-remote waving to perform finishing moves. Still, the battles against hordes of badguys are pretty repetitive, and although they're usually over quite quickly, they do get tiresome after a while.

So, actually, where No More Heroes really really excels is in its boss fights. The ten assassins you have to defeat are all extremely unusual, well-defined characters. The conversations they have with Travis are entertaining enough, but the battles, in which they get up to all sorts of neat tricks, are extremely fun, challenging and more-ish. In particular, I think it's great how the assassins' over-the-top personalities are perfectly integrated into the unique style and ambience of each of these fights. There's the girl who prances around in a pink dress in between trying to brutally beat your brains out with a baseball bat, for example, or the guy who changes into a superhero costume and swoops around a television studio suspended from wires.

So, yes, it's flawed. But that's probably chiefly because this is a game with a strong creative streak, unafraid to take risks. Perhaps the best way to describe No More Heroes is as "Quentin Tarantino meets Super Mario". You'll know if that appeals to you.